Writer's Note: HI! I haven't updated this fic since 2017, and it's now 2023. A lot has happened, including schooling, life, covid, and starting an AO3 under a different pen name. I've been on a writing hiatus for over a year now and I thought it was going to be two years until now. I recently decided to watch all the DC Comic films in order, starting with Man of Steel, and by the time I got to Zack Snyder's Justice League (which I just watched for the first time) it sparked my desire to go down memory lane and dust off this account once more. Posting this chapter without proofreading; forgive me.
While rereading my old works, I have faint memories of what I originally had planned for some stories, but because they were written so long ago I fear they can't be salvaged. Not only has my writing changed, as you'll see here, but I have also changed and I don't agree with some things I've written in the past. And I admit I cringed while rereading some old fics. HOWEVER, I've returned to this specific one for a few good reasons:
1) My reignited desire to write for DCEU will be done via this fic. So the chapter here either makes or breaks the continuation of this fic and possibly others in the future.
2) Sadly, good OCs are practically nonexistent today but it's something I've recently begun yearning strongly for again, , so here I am back here with mine.
3) I'm hoping to make a comeback in writing by returning to nostalgia. Out of the four DC Comic fics I've done, I feel like this one is the most salvageable. Not only because I remember where I wanted to go with this one more than the others, thanks to Smartlooks, including having Kon-El (Connor) in later chapters. But this already being a single chapter allowed for more expansion and story freedom.
TL;DR: Since it's been a while since I've posted on here, because I love this film series, and because this chapter is the most I've written in almost two years, there are emotions attached to this posting. The fact that reviews/comments are valued and appreciated has never died. So, if you give this a read, please share your thoughts.
The face claims are still Tabria Majors for Eve, and Fluvia Lacerda for Alyse until further decision, if any. This is still based off of the DC Comics/Man of Steel films, although inspired by shows and other interpretations.
Despite her excitement, Eve refrains from telling anyone about her pregnancy other than Clark. In fact, she told him first because she knew he'd eventually figure it out on his own, anyway. For the rest of that afternoon and when she wasn't regurgitating in the toilet, Eve nursed a full cup of ginger tea that Clark made sure remained piping hot.
They were both excited, happy, even. But, neither are willing to speak about it so soon. Since that day she told him, the anxiety has returned and made a bed in the pit of her gut. She feels as if time ticks by slowly, as if she's waiting on something, for something. She knows what it is, and tries desperately to vanquish it from her mind.
Clark could feel it too; although he had been ecstatic about the news, he's since quelled his emotions. Watching Eve and turning to scanning her body and vitals when he was sure she wouldn't notice, their mutual worries are loud and not able to be ignored. So, every once in a while, such as when she's sitting on the sofa and spacing out, he'd take her hands and reassure that nothing has happened and she needn't be so worried. But, it was always with the remembrance that "yet" is attached to his words.
There isn't a need to worry yet. Nothing bad has happened yet.
And she'd listen and nod, and he'd give a small smile to help reassure, but it doesn't go away so easily.
In that coming Friday evening, Eve snuggles into his side when he finally returned from work, like she's been doing as her sickness ebbed—sometimes it's as they watch television, sometimes while reading a novel and lying-in bed. She had already answered all his initial questions but they hadn't spoken anything else about her pregnancy since. Eve can tell that he's wanting to ask more but refrains himself—and, she can feel his eyes always on her, always tracking, always concerned.
Sometimes, she'd rub a hand along the pudge of her stomach where her womb is, and thinks about all the other times she failed to carry. Every time, she'd gotten excited and hopeful, and every time...
Once, when catching her doing this while they'd been watching a broadcasted movie, Clark paused, thought for a moment, licked his fingers clean of potato chip dust, and easily lifted his wife from her seat to sit between his legs. He tried to be comforting by hugging her to his chest before digging back in the chip bowl and focusing on the screen. He originally aimed to distract her—and it worked for a time, until the potato chips began churning in her stomach and she was too tightly wrapped in blankets and Clark that she couldn't stand in time so she wrenched the bowl from his hands and puked inside it. Clark froze; all he could do was witness. Eve apologized between coughs and offered to get another, different bowl of chips. Clark shook his head, the color having drained from his face, and assured that he's lost his appetite for the night.
The overhanging anxiety and worry are mostly sourced from fear—that if Eve were to speak about it too much, then this would be another repeat, and their hopes and happiness would be bashed once again. For the first, second, and other times that followed, she never made it past her first trimester. Granted they had all been planned meticulously—her temperature taken, a calendar was followed, and she kept her doctors on speed dial—but the most recent miscarriage was in the second trimester, which she thinks seems to be the marker of when things would go wrong.
Additionally, Martha, Clark's mother, had been informed of Eve's pregnancy then, and had been excitedly helping them prepare further when she got the phone call that Eve was in the hospital.
So, in her small, shared apartment on the outskirts of Metropolis, Eve counts down the weeks until then, both fretting that another fail would happen but hoping that it wouldn't and this time that everything will work out.
One night when she mentions that the sickness feels worse this time than during the others, this spoken while lying in bed and after having been able to keep her meals down for three days straight, he looped his long arm around her, rubbing a thumb along her hip. He couldn't think of anything to say or counter with. She wasn't looking for any words, only comfort, and found it as she drifted off to sleep, curled into her husband's wide chest.
*.§~§.*
When Eve is allowed back into the office, it's five weeks later and she's now twelve weeks along. The sickness has almost entirely gone. They still haven't told anyone she's expecting, still holding breathes themselves and because it's still early. There's an appointment set for her second ultrasound; a small part of her is dreading the appointment.
She ultimately returns to work later than she initially planned to only after she was strictly instructed to work from home, believing she'd been hospitalized due to the severity of her sickness. This was after she was kicked out because she believed in the failed assumption she could handle being more than seven feet from a toilet. Unfortunately, Eve ended up hurrying to a bathroom or dunking her head into her wastebasket a total number of three times before she was made to leave—at no help that half of her coworkers were afraid she'll vomit on them at any given time and the other half were convinced she's harboring a contagious virus.
Her husband, however, and to no surprise to Eve, agreed all too much that she should stay home. Of course, she tried to argue against it, but he deflected her every time. And because this happened with a small audience of their work peers, Eve finally huffed and gave in while Clark smirked in sly triumph. To punctuate it, he'd helped her pack some of her needed work materials, mentioning things she shouldn't forget and packing things she didn't need. Eve sarcastically rolled her eyes and tried to take the box from him when he finished, but his grip didn't budge. Instead, he kissed the top of her hair and let her simmer about it.
"You worry too much," she lightly chided as he walked her to the elevator, and pressed the button since his hands were full.
"Let me know when you've made it home," he said, ignoring her well-worn comment.
When the elevator opened, she readied to take her things, but he dodged her to enter the elevator himself. Eve shook her head.
"You think Perry's gonna let you do this? I'm sure he's gonna need you for something."
He shrugs a shoulder. "He's gonna have to. The least I can do is walk you down and get you a taxi."
Eve bites the inside of her cheek to withhold a smile. After the years of marriage, he still insists on things like this, despite them going against his boss' wishes. As the elevator chimes and its doors open to reveal the ground floor, she rests a hand on his arm and softly thanks him.
Getting a taxi could be said lied on the sight of Eve, although Clark was taller and seen first, the heavy box effortlessly balances in one hand. Inside, he stuck his head in and gave the address to their neighbor's home instead of Eve's own. Clark noticed that the driver paid his instructions little mind, his gaze bouncing from the speeding cars to Eve in the rear-view mirror. So, before leaving, he cupped the back of Eve's neck and brought her in for a possessive, open mouthed kiss—it wasn't without making purposeful eye contact with the driver. He let the taxi drive off once giving the hood a pat that rocked the carriage and left the driver confused and a bit shaken.
Now that Eve has returned to work with a better bill of health, things have only gotten more intense: On the trip here, Clark is always exactly one step behind her, his exuberant affection turned into increased monitoring and only seems to be getting worse as time goes on. Still feeling sluggish, she asked if he could run ahead and grab an extra expresso shot per a routine she normally makes in the morning. When he returns, he'd gotten her tea instead.
"How is this supposed to wake me up?" she complained.
Without looking at her, raising his own coffee to his mouth, he defended, "I read somewhere that pregnant women shouldn't have—"
"Too much coffee," she says in unison with him. "Now how much have I had today?"
"None. But that—" He'd been about to drink when her hand outstretches in an assertive, silent request for his cup. He frowns and doesn't abide, taking a loud slurp instead.
She can smell the caffeine and creamer as if it's right under her nose. "Please?"
Clark loudly sighs and hands her his cup, eyeing her carefully the entire time.
As they enter The Daily Planet's lobby, he's not a step further. Eve waves and greets coworkers with a well-crafted face of untroubled peace; her large husband behind her nods silently in greeting.
On their way to the elevator, she advises, "When we get up here, I need you to have your head in the game again, one hundred percent." She means for him to focus solely on work and not so much on her. At her side, Clark's mouth opens as he begins to speak but she interrupts him, continuing to speak. "You know I don't leave the building. And if there's something that happens, I'll call you. Okay?"
His mouth closes. The half-emptied paper coffee cup is steady in his hand. They're at the back of the elevator while a few others pile inside. Eve knows he isn't satisfied with her request and likely won't comply by it, but she speaks it nonetheless. For him to focus less on her right now—before they know anything for certain—is the best either of them could do. Just like everyone, their jobs need to be done.
"Plus," she adds, "a distraction will be... Beneficial. Good. Needed."
He doesn't say anything, only wrinkling his nose at a man's cologne that's a bit too strong.
"Also, I'm going to try to talk to Perry sometime today."
Clark opens his mouth again, this time in a question Eve already anticipates.
"I'm not going to tell him," Eve answers. "It'll be about my absences. I need to make up the time I missed."
"Don't overexert yourself," he advices, speaking lowly and standing tense at her side. From the corner of her eye, she notices his posture gaining a small hunch as the elevator rises—a purposefully constructed facade.
Eve couldn't help but crack a smile. She jokes, "Don't worry. I won't pull a muscle while brewing coffee for everyone else."
From over her shoulder, he watches her entering a reminder into her cellphone's calendar to make a doctor's appointment at her OB/GYN. "I'm serious," he says, right before the doors open to their floor.
"I know." She selects 'Enter' on her keypad then puts away her cellphone. "See you later. Have a good day, Mr. Kent." She pats his cheek in an affectionate tease.
The sigh Clark makes is heavy and disappointed, watching her wave over her shoulder, smiling, and leaving for her own work station in the opposite direction. "And you, too..."
*.§~§.*
Eve remembers watching Lois Lane meander around the floor while big and round with her son, Jason, five years ago. Eve had watched her, as did everyone, and smiled politely at her jokes and ills. Back then, Eve and Clark had already purchased appropriate wedding rings because they had been dating and preparing to marry themselves, meanwhile Richard White was relentless in his pursuit to wed Lois, excited for their oncoming wedding date. The fact that she'd gotten pregnant ahead of their agreement became only a little bump in the road, but nothing more.
Eve remembered watching Lois' lean to stand, her stomach obvious and protruding through her maternity shirts and dresses, and the times she accidentally bumped against every sudden, too-short corner. Back then, Eve had looked up at Clark and noticed something behind his stare as he watched Lois. Eve, of course, questioned him about it, blatantly asking if he's thinking about Lois since they dated for several years prior, and given that they're all still working together.
He had answered, "No," and nothing further.
When she noticed it again, Eve directly asked what he's thinking to cause the look across his face. Clark only pressed his lips into a tight line, gone stoic, and said that it was "Nothing," before walking away.
Eve revisited the question twice more on unrelated occasions but received similar responses. Only on the fifth time did he sigh and reveal his thoughts he'd only just been able to identify and dissect. Six months later, and after speaking with a financial advisor, Eve took her first pregnancy test.
Now, five years later, Jason is that equal number in age and Lois still has not missed a beat on her workload or in venturing out into the field for stories—her only pause being during her maternity leave for birth and several months after. Even before her leave and ss imagined, neither Richard nor his uncle, the Editor-in-Chief Perry White, agreed to the majority of Lois' proposals for assignments. And, much to her chagrin, Lois was confined to majority desk work and only to interview non strenuous, stressless stories—this was backed up by her doctor, which Richard never missed a chance to playfully remind her of.
Jason—Perry's only grandnephew—has made himself comfortable at Lois' desk that is far too large for him, his crayons spilled out among her papers and notes, and he's enthusiastically telling Jenny Jurwich about his latest drawing of his favorite tv character. He's here visiting his mother, much to the chagrin of his father, Richard, due to it being his day off—also because Jason had a tantrum when his father told him "No," and Richard didn't have the willpower to fight Jason on it, but Jason's large smile and childlike fascination of every humdrum aspect of The Daily Planet makes it worth it.
Not far away, there's a discussion between Lois and her husband, Richard White, that includes harsh whispers, crossed arms, and squared shoulders. Eve glances away from the scene and back to Cat Grant who's been complaining about an intern's assignment, nitpicking all the tiny errors throughout it.
Finally, having enough, Eve cuts off Cat's rant. "I just don't see how it's a detrimental issue. The kid's still in college; it's not like she's going to be an expert, Cat."
Being the lead editor of the Opinion section, Cat upholds a certain level of perfectionism which she imposes on everyone who touches her section, regardless of their department. Because of this, she isn't pleased by Eve's apparent nonchalance and squints her eyes in judgment.
But, Eve is unperturbed and shrugs, handing back the printed mockup. "Have you even ran this by a proofreader yet, or are you just complaining before getting the final product, again?"
"You know, with me being the Lead Editor of a section, I'd say I know a little more about this than you do. And you're talking a lot for someone who's never had interns herself and who's had to take twice as long to get her first story," Cat jeers.
"You know I didn't come on here to be a reporter," Eve reminds, glaring. "That isn't even where I work."
Cat scoffs with malice. "It shows. Not like you'd understand the process anyway."
Having developed a shorter tolerance lately, Eve decides to end this exchange as quickly as possible. "Cat, you came to me. Plus, I am one of the people who work in 'the process,' but it's okay if you forget. Now," she turns her focus away from Cat, much to her annoyance, "if you're so bothered by it, why don't you go talk to your intern and teach her. That's why you have her under you in the first place, isn't it?"
Cat snatches the mockup back with more force than necessary, pushes an insincere "Thanks" through her teeth, and returns to her workstation, her pearl necklace jangling. Eve massages her ears, noticing how the necklace sounds louder and oddly more noticeable than she remembers it ever being.
As Cat leaves, Alyse approaches—another coworker and a long-time friend of Eve's.
At Lois' desk, Richard loudly sighs and drags a hand down his face. Lois steps closer to him, seemingly pleading in her hushed volume and still talking. Eventually, Richard softens, then grins, then leans forward into Lois' space, close enough that it's intimate but without physical touch. Then, Jason calls for his mother, ending the intimate moment. Richard's grin widens and he ruffles his son's large, bouncing curls—which was inherited from him, with dimples on his light brown cheeks to match.
Eve is found spacing out while facing the direction of Lois and Richard. Alyse loudly knocks on her cubicle wall, startling Eve from her thoughts. "You okay in there?" she jokes, coming to check on Eve again since her return from her extended sick leave.
Further breaking her concentration, Eve gives her head and shoulders a shake then the explanation that she had only been thinking and contemplating. She's relieved to begin a conversation, which always seems inevitable when the two are together. But, during it, a hand had unconsciously found its way to rest on Eve's stomach again. It's such a small, insignificant action that she goes a long while without noticing. It's only when Alyse brings it to her attention in the midst of their conversation does Eve take notice.
"You're not sick with some kind of flu or disease, are you?" Alyse laughs lightly, trying to ease the sudden tension.
Now noticing Eve's hand placement and assuming it has to do with her conception history, Alyse asks, "How're you doing, really? Not just physically." And an eyebrow rises in concern. "Still have a bit of sickness?"
Eve pauses, thinking over her answer before speaking. "No. Not really. It's gone away mostly—which is good. Before, I couldn't hold down any solids. Or liquids for more than, like, thirty minutes." She then proceeds to open a bag of plain potato chips and eats four at once.
Alyse's nose wrinkles at the visual. She asks, incredulously, "What kind of flu did you have?"
Eve's face cracks into a stifled smile. "I'm not sick. I'm, uh, I'm doing just fine."
Alyse is understandably confused and for good reason. This news hadn't left Eve's home; not even her parents knew this time, or for the times prior.
"I'm, uh," Eve begins, suddenly bashful and gleeful at the same time, but she forces it down and sobers her features. "I'm fine, Alyse. Thanks, truly."
But her friend squints her eyes and reads Eve effortlessly. After knowing each other for over a decade, Alyse can tell that there's more to Eve's words. "What aren't you telling me...?" Alyse asks, slowly. "You're talking weird. And, you've been acting weird... You're eating way more chips than you usually do..." Alyse nods to the three discarded bags in Eve's wastebasket.
Eve watches her friend's eyes slowly widen and an eyebrow arches, but Alyse doesn't say anything, not wanting to make false assumptions, knowing anything could be the true cause.
Finally, Eve grimaces. "Can you keep a secret?"
Alyse rests a hand on her own hip. "Why do you always ask me that, knowing that I can't? But, you know what? I'm going to lie and say that I do just because now you've got to tell me."
Eve bursts into laughter.
*.§~§.*
"Why didn't you want to tell him?" Alyse asks after Eve shared the news. She's leaning against wall-to-ceiling window at a dead-end corridor outside the office. They've snuck away on the partial lie of needing a break. This is the only point of privacy in this building, knowing trips here are infrequent and it's less occupied than both the breakroom and the women's restroom.
Eve hesitates to answer, having grown solemn. "You didn't see him last time."
"Last time?"
Eve thinks about the doctor's offices, of the examination tables, the needles and samples taken. She remembers the time she wasted taking vitamins, checking her temperature, stressing, questioning, falling sick and then bleeding prior being rushed to a hospital; the smell of antiseptic and sterilized counters, grey chairs, and Clark standing tall and tense at her side, listening to different doctors give the same results over and over and over again. She remembers sitting down and talking it over with her husband, of looking at their specific, separate savings account dwindling. She had a speculation about why it wasn't working and Clark knew, too, but it didn't deter them, not completely. In fact, on two separate, prior occasions, she conceived without intention.
That hadn't lessened the depression that was brought because of it, or bitter emotions, or feelings of woe. And there wasn't a moment that sadness wasn't in his eyes, nor in Eve's. Her miscarriages had all been sudden, not all caused by stress. In fact, during her most recent one that happened two years ago, they had been gathering everything needed for a baby and a nursery. Then, if it had made it two more weeks, Eve would have been at the point when she could have felt the baby kick.
"Yeah," Eve continues. "This isn't, uh, isn't my first time... We've... Spent a lot of money on IVFs in the past, too..."
"Oh..." Alyse needs a moment for the meaning behind her words to register: They had money saved away for this; they've spent a lot of time on this. When it does, she softly comments, "And this time...?"
Eve shrugs.
She watches Eve gaze down at Metropolis below—taxis, pedestrians, and honking vehicles. Occasionally, a dog trots by besides its owner, and a baby carriage strolls down the sidewalk. Clark and Eve are very private people and hardly tell anyone what's going on in their personal lives unless it's blatant. Alyse has witnessed Clark's attempts to court Eve, and then how it mellowed down over time to which Alyse took to confirm it worked and that they were dating. As a best friend, Alyse teased them about it but made sure her best intentions and sincere care were known. So, with something as serious this present topic, she wouldn't have known unless she'd been told, or until she started noticing Eve's stomach.
Alyse grabs Eve's hand and softly squeezes in comfort. Eve returns it with a small, weak smile.
"I'm still shocked, I guess... This wasn't planned this time, so I don't really know how to handle it." A sob breaks her words then. "I'm—I'm excited but I don't think I should be... Is that bad? And how I didn't want to tell him, but—you know how nosey he can be." She tries to laugh it off but fails as tears begin gathering in her eyes.
In front of the windows in the dead-end corridor, Alyse envelopes her friend in a tight hug.
Eve chuckles again against Alyse's shoulder. "I guess I told you because I wanted to ask you... Is it bad that I thought the possibility that he'd not want this one? I mean, not wanting to go through the risk of another... Of a repeat? Again. I know I sound silly and he was excited before, but... I don't know. After all this time... And it's been two years since..."
Alyse pulls back so they can make eye contact and Eve sees her for emphasis. "So, is it bad that you thought he wouldn't be as excited like he was before because you're both scared of repeating it? No, I don't think it's bad," she answers. "You didn't want him to know because you wanted to keep his feelings from being hurt, again."
Eve nods, grossly wiping her face with her sleeve.
"It's not bad," she repeats, "but, I should be asking you the same thing." Alyse asks, "Do you want this? How're you feeling about this?"
Eve inhales shakily and thinks over her words for a long minute. Finally, she answers, "I'm scared. For so many reasons."
*.§~§.*
The talk with Alyse lifts weight from her chest Eve hadn't realize was there. Once cleaning up in the restroom, she returns to the floor, and when she walks in, she notices Clark's head swiveling around above the heads and cubicle walls, seemingly ignoring Jimmy Olsen chattering at his side. But once he catches sight of Eve, he stops, calms, and lowers back to his chair.
One of the two televisions on the floor displays the news channel that runs during all the hours of the day. Currently airing on it is a reporter informing about a grand opening of a new community center followed by the arrest of car hijackers. After, a few minutes is used to update the progress of forest fire control happening in California.
When she's turning towards Perry White's office, someone scurry out. Not a moment later, his head peaks out and his booming voice easily carries to where Eve is.
Perry begins "Close the door," Perry instructed before Eve has completely stepped inside his office. "I assume this is something important."
"It is. I need more hours." She gets straight to the point without batting an eye, and Perry stares at her for a long moment first.
"You haven't even been here for a day and you're requesting more work."
Eve shrugs. "I've been out of commission for enough time. I—"
"I get that, I do, but..." He leans forward, motioning her to take a sit. His voice softens. "How have you been? The last time you were here, your face practically turned green," he jokes. "You got it all out your system, right? Took all your medicine this time?"
Eve grins politely and nods. "Yes, and I'm fine, thanks." Her gaze drifts from his concerned face to a glass figurine that wasn't on his desk before. She points this out, trying to diverge the conversation.
Perry picks it up to examine it fondly. "Yeah. Lexi's little girl got it for me. She won't tell me where, but if I had to guess, I'd say garage sale." He over the rims of his glasses, grinning.
Lexi is of Perry's daughter, whose own ten-year-old girl has developed a fond, childish attachment to her grandfather. Eve knows of Lexi, like several other of Perry's relatives, because their families are close—initially connected through the close friendships of her grandfather and an uncle, it spread from there to where both families could be considered kin. This secret has been kept from all coworkers, successfully keeping things professional.
"It's very cute," Eve agrees. "But about my increased hours—"
He waves as he places the figurine down with much care. "I'll think about it."
"Perry—"
"I'll have to see what else you can do," he explains, and Eve relaxes. "God, some of you are relentless," he comments without malice, and Eve chuckles. "Don't laugh too hard. Next you'll be running to the bathroom again," he teases.
Eve chuckles, her jaw dropping. "Hey! I wasn't that bad!"
"Sure, sure." Perry raises his hands in defense. "But really, everything okay at home?"
Eve purses her lips and slowly nods. "Yeah. I, uh, I think everything's okay. Mostly. It seems... I think so... Of course, some things are concerning—"
Suddenly protective and concerned, Perry unintentionally interrupts with, "What do you mean 'mostly'?"
At the same time, Jenny barges in, informing that Superman is on the news again rescuing victims of the California fire, and she hurriedly requests to be formally assigned to produce a piece about the incident—treating it very much like a race.
At the mention of the news, Eve doesn't falter, doesn't waver, and retains a facade of indifference belonging to any other bystander and not as someone with close relations. But, when she leaves Perry's office, she keeps an eye on the broadcasting news until the end. Then she keeps an eye out for her husband's return; by closing time, he doesn't make it. Eve sends out a text asking for his whereabouts. Instead, his cellphone buzzes from the pocket of his suit jacket lying across the back of his desk chair.
Eve waits and waits until he last employee leaves. She scrolls through her emails and plays computer games until the janitor arrives. Only then does she grab her bag, Clark's belongings, then leaves for home.
Rain has turned Metropolis into blotches of greys and blues. She's lightly sprayed with street water when a taxi slows to answer her hail. The rude back is long due to traffic and she's quiet, so the driver turns on the radio. Sometime during the ride, her stomach rumbles.
A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I'll admit that, because it's been so many years since I've not only written for this fandom, for these characters, and for these OCs (Eve and Alyse) I feel shaky about it. Please forgive me.
Again, if you like this, please let me know. Even better: if you have any ideas or prompts of what you want to see with Eve and Clark, feel free to add them to your review! All characters in the DCEU films and shows welcome to be included in your prompts. As you can probably tell, this chapter is expands further on this AU Verse and shares background details. Your feedback will literally make or break the continuation of this fic, this verse, and everything associated with it.
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